Wings of Blood and Cruelty
A Hemlock Grove fanfic by Glamoured By-Eric
Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.-Friedrich Nietzsche
Chapter 10 - Parlor Tricks
"Oh perfect," said Roman sarcastically to Peter as he rolled his eyes. "I need to get out of here. I need a fucking cigarette. You coming?"
"Oh yeah. Definitely time."
As they started toward the door, Olivia called out, "Roman, take your bodyguards with you."
"Yes, Mother," he said condescendingly without looking back as he glanced at Peter.
Peter caught his own mother's eye and mimed smoking so she would know where he was going.
Hulk and Frozone were at the door, and Hulk spoke as Roman and Peter were about to leave. "I would advise against going outside, Mr. Godfrey."
"Mr. Godfrey?" scoffed Roman. "Mr. Godfrey was my father. I'm just plain Roman. He's also Mr. Godfrey." Roman turned and pointed at Norman who was still having words with Dr. Pryce.
"We're going out for a smoke. You are welcome to join us as long as you keep your distance." He pointed to Peter as he spoke. "My friend and I need to talk. Comprende?"
Hulk replied, "We comprende just fine. It is just that you will be out in the open with little to no cover. We wouldn't be doing our jobs if you were to get shot. You hired us to keep you safe and that is what we will do at all costs."
"Whatever. Come on Peter," said Roman, putting his hand on Peter's shoulder and leading him out.
Outside, the bodyguards moved to one side of the door and Roman and Peter to the other side. Roman produced a white gold cigarette case and lighter. He took out one cigarette and handed it to Peter, then took one for himself, snapped the case shut and put it back inside his suit coat pocket. Flicking his lighter, he lit both of their cigarettes.
Roman spit a little to the side, took a long drag, and said, "I found something today when I went to the cemetery." He pulled out a Ziploc plastic bag from his pocket and handed it to Peter.
Through the light from the outside sconce, Peter saw the tuft of fur inside the bag, and his eyebrows went straight up. He looked back at Roman.
Roman said, "Go ahead. Take a whiff. Maybe you can pick up a scent."
Peter flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette, repositioned it in his hand and opened the bag.
The pungent smell nearly knocked him over, overwhelming him. It was unlike anything he had ever smelled before. Cloying and powerful, like an ancient evil had come into play; one that he wasn't prepared to face. It scared him. He could also smell the wolf, the soil she had been buried in, the embalming fluid and a trace of Christina in the mix.
"Jesus!" exclaimed Peter, leaning back against the brick of the building and shuddering once.
"What? Is it her? The vargulf?" asked Roman.
"No, we're so beyond vargulf. We're so far out in left field right now that it isn't even funny. I have no clue how to fight this. That is why my people behead our dead. Those like me. If you don't, we come back. But this? I've never smelled anything as bad as this. It is like smelling pure evil. More people are going to die and soon."
Roman gulped as Peter rezipped the bag and handed it back to him. Roman slipped it into his pocket and said, "There has to be something we can do."
Peter took a drag, blew it out through his nose, and said, "I got nothing. We'd be better off getting the fuck out of Dodge."
"Maybe for you. You don't have roots here. I do." Roman started pacing. "I have a daughter to think about now. To protect."
"Fuck roots! You have money. Just take her and leave."
"I just inherited everything from my father on my eighteenth birthday. I have responsibilities. I can't just pick up and run. Can't we call the cops or the Feds and let them take care of it?"
"Cops or Feds aren't going to know that the only way to kill this creature is to behead it. Do you think they could get close enough to do that? That we could do that on our own? We couldn't take her on successfully when she was just the vargulf. Shelley had to save us."
Roman suggested, "I could get my medieval weapon. That would take care of it."
Peter replied, "A lot of good that did last time."
"Things are different now. I'm different. Stronger. I can feel it. This time it could work."
"If it doesn't, who will take care of Michelle? Your mother?"
Roman gritted his teeth and answered, "No, my mother would eat her for breakfast if she had the chance."
"What is up with your mother? That was quite a shock when she came in."
"I know, right?" answered Roman, glancing at Hulk and Frozone. "I totally was not expecting that."
He walked over to his car, opened the door and pulled a flask out of the glove compartment. When he returned, he said quietly, "I mean, I ended her, and she is walking around again. I'm going to have to deal with her if only to find out more about being upir. I'm not letting her anywhere near Michelle though. I certainly didn't know I had an aunt either. I wonder if she is upir."
Peter stamped his cigarette butt on the sidewalk, watched Roman take a swig who then offered it to him. He took a swig and said, "I got the upir vibe from her. Makes me wonder how old they are? How long will you live?" He handed the flask back to Roman.
"I don't know. My mom hasn't aged a day since I've known her. She always looks good. Yeah, I wonder about me too. Am I going to stay eighteen forever? "
Peter looked serious for a moment, then said quietly, "Your mom may be an manipulative, ageless bitch, but she did save my life. I owe her for that. When I was trapped in that cage at Castle Godfrey, which is one of my worse fears, Chasseur had a dagger to my throat when your mom showed up. I was tranquilized, but I could see some of what went on."
"What happened?" asked Roman.
"Chasseur shot at your mother, then I heard Chasseur scream. They were no longer in my line of sight, so I didn't see what happened, and I couldn't move my head at the time. From the type of scream, I'm pretty sure your mom killed her. The next thing I knew I was waking up to your face in the attic. I didn't really remember what had happened that day until after I was on the road with my mom."
"My mother. Always full of surprises."
Olivia walked across the room to Norman and Dr. Pryce where Norman was still berating him. She took Norman's arm and pulled him aside.
"Norman, this is not the time or place to take this up with Dr. Pryce. This is your daughter's viewing, not time for recriminations. Let him pay his respects and then leave unaccosted. We must keep up appearances, darling."
Norman looked into Olivia's eyes, took a deep breath to control his temper and said, "You're right of course. This is not the time. He and I will have words though."
Scowling at Dr. Pryce, Norman turned his back on him. Olivia caught Dr. Pryce's eye and nodded toward the casket, giving him permission to approach and pay his respects. He did so.
Pryce looked down at Letha and teared up a little. He said to her quietly, "I'm so sorry."
With that, he left and ran into Roman and his entourage coming back into the room. Dr. Pryce said, "Roman."
"Pryce," answered Roman. "Going so soon? Surprising. You had such a warm welcome."
"Yes, well. That was unfortunate."
"Good night, Pryce. I'll see you next week at our meeting."
"Good night."
Dr. Pryce exited the building and pulled his new personal recorder from his pocket, turned it on, and spoke.
"'People spend too much time finding other people to blame, too much energy finding excuses for not being what they are capable of being, and not enough energy putting themselves on the line, growing out of the past, and getting on with their lives.'"
Karen Ferris was out jogging down a path in the park at dusk. She was breathing heavily after her thirty minute run and was on the stretch home. A movement in the bushes to her right had her pausing for a moment before she resumed running. When it continued, she felt unease creep into her gut. She was being silly though as the public had been reassured that the serial killer had been caught. It was just her imagination.
Picking up her pace, Karen started when she heard a low growl from the bushes and saw two green eyes glowing under the park lights as a rather large animal emerged from the brush. It stood up on it's hind legs and howled. She back pedaled and nearly tripped but caught herself before falling. She was running full out now. Her lungs were burning with the effort as she was already tired.
Karen didn't dare look back now. She was almost out of the park toward her neighborhood. She had to make it but was panicking over the sound of paws tearing up the turf behind her.
Finally, she was out of the park and running up her street toward her home. It was still behind her but she had a lead on the beast. She ran up her stairs to her screen door, opened it and found the front door locked. She fumbled in her pocket for her keys, found them and promptly dropped them. She bent down to pick them up and when she stood back up, she felt hot breath on her neck just before two strong jaws closed around her neck. She gave one cry and was unconscious.
The werewolf clamped onto her shoulder and dragged her back to the park. Once there, she started chewing on the woman's crotch and abdomen, getting that delicious warm blood down her throat. She ate her fill as she was gnawingly hungry.
Stephen Ferris heard a noise at the front door and went to investigate. He opened the door and saw the blood running down the screen door onto the landing and his wife's keys at his feet. He grabbed his cell phone and baseball bat and followed the blood trail to the park. On the way, he called 911 and waited for them to pick up. That's when he saw the animal tearing at something on the ground just inside the park.
"911. What's your emergency?" asked the dispatcher.
"Fuck me!" Ferris exclaimed as the animal looked up, saw him and started stalking toward him.
"What was that, sir?"
"Send a patrol car. I found the devil dog in the park. It has killed my wife. Send it now."
The dispatcher heard blood curdling screams and then feral noises she wished that she had never heard to begin with and never wanted to hear again.
A/N:
The music for the closing credits would be Pale: Fearing Faces.
The quote Pryce used in talking into his tape recorder was a quote from J. Michael Straczynski (writer of the Babylon 5 TV series) which was found on Brainy Quote.